Got it! Pulling out the key, she slipped it silently in the lock. She’d already developed a plan. She would gasp in horrified shock at whatever they were doing—the giggles were getting even louder—then calmly demand that Mr. Nathan Gao vacate immediately. That was the best solution. She’d refund his money, even help him move. “No harm, no foul,” she’d say. “Just go teach your ‘classes’ on someone else’s property.” It was a blow to her fantasy life, of course. She’d have to wait even longer to open the door to her sexuality, but when had anything ever gone how she’d planned?
She pushed open the door, her gasp already begun. Only to have her breath choked off in real shock. Mr. Gao was almost naked. Gone was his shirt, jacket and shoes. He was kneeling on the floor, his chest totally bare, as he addressed the equally topless coeds. Mr. Gao looked up, his sculpted black eyebrows raising in a silent question. But Tracy couldn’t form any words—righteously indignant or not. Her mind—and her eyes—were completely trained on Mr. Better-Than-Jet-Li. She’d been dreaming of having that chest over her, beneath her, beside her, but she’d never guessed how really ripped he was. His skin was light gold in the afternoon sun, his shoulders pulled back in perfect posture that absolutely accented his six pack—no, twelve-pack—abs. No fat softened the lean beauty of his torso and when he slowly stood, Tracy could do no more than stare open-mouthed at him.
“Mrs. Williams, what is the meaning of this intrusion?”
His voice quivered down her spine and she had to forcibly drag her gaze up from the bare flesh just below his belly button. How often had she fantasized about tugging off his loose pants? How hideous was it that she finally got to see his fabulous body but in this context? She swallowed, but still couldn’t pull her eyes off his sculpted abs.
“Ms. Williams,” she murmured. “I’m not married.” And what the hell did that have to do with anything?
“So sorry,” he returned, his tone softening into that low bedroom voice she’d been imagining for months. “Are you here to join the class?”
Class? She blinked. Oh, that class! The possibly illegal sex class that was jeopardizing her entire future. She straightened, forcibly cooled her expression, and even managed a disdainful lift to her eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gao, but I am not interested in your class. In fact, I am afraid I am going to have to evict you for illegal activity.” She winced at the lie. He certainly wasn’t doing anything illegal at the moment. But she wanted to come on overly strong so that she had room to compromise. “Please vacate the premises by tomorrow morning.”
He reared back in shock, his chest muscles rippling in a truly stunning display. “Sorry? Illegal activity? It must be my English—I don’t understand.”
Yeah, right. His English was flawless. “Please. You can’t think I’m that stupid.” She canted her gaze— reluctantly—at the gaggle of girls who had miraculously pulled their cropped T-shirts back on. “I can’t afford even the appearance of something unwholesome.” Another wince. She sounded like a stuck-up prude. Time to offer up the compromise. “Please, just move out and I won’t call the cops.”
His entire body went rigid with indignation. “Unwholesome? Who’s unwholesome?” He stared accusingly at the girls. As one, they gasped, then grabbed their designer purses and embroidered book bags. Three of the four made it out the door in a split second, but the fourth lingered.
“We didn’t hire him for that,” the petite blonde number one murmured. “This was just a class.”
“Don’t be naive,” Tracy returned as the girl slipped past.
“Don’t be a close-minded bigot!” Mr. Gao snapped.
Tracy felt her shoulders tighten. Fantasy lovers should never, ever become real. They were always a disappointment. “Just go, Mr. Gao. I can’t take the risk of having you here,” she said with real regret. “I just can’t risk it. I’m sorry.” She turned to leave, but he moved faster than she thought possible. Before she completed her pivot, he slipped in front of the door, blocking it with all that rippling muscle. He never touched her, but Lord, the sight alone was enough to stop her cold.
“I was teaching a class!” He spoke with barely repressed rage. He grabbed his flyer—the very same one she had still clenched in her fist—and pushed it toward her. “Tantric class. It’s a religion.”
She tilted her head back, startled—and a little intimidated—by his height. They’d never been this close before, and the heat off his body made her head spin. “It’s a cover,” she managed to say. “A convenient lie, and we both know it.”
His eyes were flat and cold. “I know nothing of the kind, Miss Williams. I will not leave my apartment. You may call the police if you wish. I have done nothing wrong.” Then his lips tightened in apparent disappointment. It was a small movement, but she was so close that she saw every nuance. “Come to a class,” he urged. “Tantrism is just a belief system.” He paused a moment, his eyes going flinty dark. “Unusual but completely legal.”
“I can have you evicted,” she bluffed.
“No, you can’t. Imagine the problems, especially if I call the Chinese embassy.”
She swallowed. A messy international argument involving religion would screw up the sale of the building almost as much as a vice bust. “You can’t sell sex in the United States. It’s illegal.”
“Selling sex is one-hundred-percent legal as long as it is attached to a product. Having sex for money is illegal, and no one here was having sex.”
“You’re almost naked! They were topless.” Her emotions were spiraling out of control, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She had dreamed of this man for almost two months now, the last thing she wanted was to kick him out. But she couldn’t risk her or her brother’s future on anything that appeared immoral. “I’ll refund your security deposit. I’ll help you move. We can use my truck, but you’ve got to go. I’m sorry.”
“I am not leaving.” His voice was hard and flat—so different from the warm, flirty exchanges they’d been having since the beginning of school. Then he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her out of his apartment. She barely had time to squeak in alarm before her sedate black pumps touched gently down on the hallway carpet. “Excuse me while I call my lawyer,” he said. Then he flashed his cell phone at her just before shutting the door firmly in her face.
Tracy glared at the thin door. She could force her way in there, but no way was she going to win against him in a physical fight. Not that it wouldn’t be fun trying, but…
She pulled her thoughts back from the gutter and turned away, making sure she was noisy as she stomped down the hallway. Let the gorgeous hunk think he’d defeated her. As soon as she was out of earshot, she whipped out her cell phone and dialed, punching in the extension when prompted.
“Detective McKay.”
She smiled. Thank God for old friends with helpful professions. “Hey, Mike. It’s Tracy. Can you run a check for me on a tenant?”
NATHAN SNAPPED HIS cell phone shut. He didn’t have any minutes left on his phone anyway, much less enough to consult a lawyer. It had taken all his money to get to the United States to study business at a prestigious school. An MBA from the University of Illinois would get him a first-class job with first-class pay. That money would in turn pay for his siblings’ education and set them all on the right path. It was a weighty responsibility, but one he cherished as the eldest male of his generation.
How infuriating to have all that threatened by one close-minded American woman! He dropped his head against the door and cursed himself for a blind fool. He had noticed Ms. Tracy Williams, of course. She had stood out in his mind even before she’d become his landlord. Sweet, refreshingly nervous as a woman, but amazingly capable as a landlord, she had fascinated him from the first moment he’d visited her apartment building. Over the past two months, he’d seen her work on the roof in sweltering heat, muscle in a stubborn water heater, even crawl beneath the building as she rewired the cable, and yet when she spoke to him, she acted like a shy teenager. Her remarks were always casually fun, but her body language had sizzled with sensuality. It drew him, and he constantly wondered why she suppressed such natural sexuality.
Well, he had his answer now, didn’t he? She was a prude. Damn the waste! Damn her for not even giving him a chance to explain. And damn her for still occupying his fantasies when the reality was so disappointing. Wow, had she looked hot in that blue business suit!
Pushing away from the door, Nathan mentally tabulated his bills. Forget food and rent, he had to pay for his education. With his fellowship abruptly disappearing three weeks ago because of government cutbacks, he needed to find a new job. But his student visa excluded everything else.
So he’d done the only thing he could: he’d begun teaching Tantrism. All he had to do was dress in tight pants and a muscle T-shirt, both borrowed from his neighbor, and post flyers at the nearby sororities. He knew they weren’t interested in the true meaning of Tantric Buddhism—he was really selling a few hours of being ogled by rich American girls—but he was desperate. And if he could impart a few morsels of Truth while feeding himself, then so
